Grace and Guts
by BonanzaRocks
Summary: Before the Leviathans get a chance to rip Castiel apart, he gives Dean a gift. It's a gift that could help Dean save his brother, but it may not be enough. (Set at the beginning of season 7)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the characters or whatever.**

 **This chapter is really short...kind of like a teaser but the rest will be longer.**

 **SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

And that was it. The souls were back in Purgatory.

Bobby, Dean, and Cas cast grotesque shadows upon the warehouse floor as they inched towards the door.

"I'm sorry Dean," Cas whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"I know." Dean kept his eyes forward. Not sure if he was ready to take on the topic of Castiel's recent misdeeds.

All of a sudden, Cas lurched backwards. His face pained. His eyes were brimming with panic.

"Cas? What's going on?" Dean asked; each word was laced with fear.

"Leviathan!" Cas spat out, clutching his chest. "I can feel them. They're still inside of me. They held on."

Bobby looked back and forth between Dean and Cas. Trying to scrounge up a solution.

"I don't have long. They're so strong." Cas said reaching for a scalpel on a nearby table. "Not enough time…Sam." Castiel let out a pained grunt. "Heal Sam."

"Cas." Dean said the name with a mix of disappointment and despair.

"I can't heal him now, too late for me," Cas brought the scalpel to his neck, "but maybe you can."

Cas made a slight incision, which produced a thin line of blood.

"What are you doing?" Dean shouted, panic growing.

"What little I can. I'm sorry Dean." Cas gave Dean a small smile before a brilliant blue light shout out from the cut on his neck and arched through the air. The blue light entered through Dean's partially parted lips. Once the transfer was complete Dean dropped to the ground. Black goo started to ooze from Castiel's pores. His body shook and twitched in random convulsions.

"We'll be back." The words came from Castiel's lips but they were mechanical and foreign sounding. Cas's body limped away with a sense of urgency. Leaving behind a trail of black goo.

Bobby, who had been too stunned to speak, turned to an unconscious Dean.

"Dean?" Bobby asked, shaking the slumped shoulders. "Cas?"

Dean's eyes shot open and he sucked in a quick breath of air like he had just emerged from the depths of the ocean.

"Bobby?" Dean asked, locking eyes with the older hunter.

"You ok boy?"

"What happened?"

Bobby opened his mouth to answer but he stopped when he noticed Dean's eyes. Dean's left eye was green as ever, but the right, the right eye was blue. Sky blue. Castiel blue.

 **SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

 **Ok, again I know that was a little baby chapter.**

 **Thanks for reading! If you have a second I'd love it if you could review and let me know what you think!**


	2. Healing

**Thanks for coming back for more!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the characters or anything.**

 **SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

"Bobby?" Dean said with urgency, "What happened?"

"Don't quite know." Bobby whispered. "Are you all you?"

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, rising slowly to his feet. "Course I'm me. Where'd Cas go?"

"Dean, I think he's possessing you."

"What? No, impossible." Dean said, but as he protested Bobby's claim he started to feel a slight sensation in his veins. "I didn't say yes. He's an angel. He would need my permission."

"All I know is, he cut himself open and a light ribbon of energy went directly from him into you." Bobby explained.

"Like his soul?"

"Beats me." Bobby shrugged. "Next thing I knew your lights were out and those things had control of Cas's body. Walked him away."

"Where?"

Bobby shrugged. How was he to know where those creatures were walking Cas?

"Sam!" Dean's eyes shot around the room, "Where's Sam?"

Down the hall Sam was pinned up against the wall. Lucifer was smirking at the sweaty, trembling, Sam.

"Isn't this fun?" Lucifer said with a laugh. "Like a great big doll house. And guess what Sammy. You're my favorite doll to play with."

Lucifer twirled a piece of Sam's hair around his finger a few times before yanking the small clump out from his scalp.

Sam wanted to scream, but he knew that would only elicit a giggle or smirk.

"This isn't real." Sam said in desperation. He tried to make it come out like a statement but there was still puzzlement behind the words. Was it real? Was he out?

"Of course This isn't real," Lucifer said, gesturing to the walls surrounding the pair. "Just some imaginative construction work. You and me pal. We're the only real parts."

"SAM?!" The name echoed off the walls. Dean and Bobby ran up to meet Sam. "Sammy, you ok?"

"Enjoy playtime with my Ken and Grandpa Ken dolls." Lucifer said motioning to Dean and Bobby like a game show host. "I'll check in on you later kiddo."

"Dean? Bobby?" Sam said. He cleared his throat and looked the two up and down. Then back up, into Dean's eyes. "Dean, your eyes."

"What about them?" Dean asked.

"It's ok Sam," Bobby interjected. "I see it too. You ain't outta your mind."

"See what?" Dean asked with growing annoyance.

"See for yourself," Bobby said handing Dean a well-polished blade.

Dean looked down at his reflection and almost dropped the knife in shock.

"What the hell?" Dean said turning to Bobby for an explanation.

"Must be whatever Cas did to you," Bobby said. "Let's get outta here and we can look into it back at the house."

"Yeah, sure. Wait, where did Cas go?" Dean asked.

"One way to find out. If we find him, I ain't so sure it's going to be him. Those Leviathan things took over." Bobby led the gang back to the black gooey footprints and they followed them outside to a body of water. Municipal drinking waters. They arrived just in time to see the last inch of Castiel's head drop below the water. A swirl of black exploded outwards before sucking back in and down.

"Ah, hell," Bobby muttered.

"Great." Dean said, running a hand through his hair, "Just great."

The three men stood watching the water in silence. A bird chirped in the distance, it just chirped away, as if this were a perfectly normal day; as if Castiel hadn't become the carrier for thousands of ancient creatures and then dissolved into nothingness.

"I'll, uh, get the car started." Bobby gave Dean a pat on the back before turning away.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam said looking out at the water.

"It's not you're fault." Dean turned to face his brother, "How're you holding up? Honestly."

"Honestly." Sam sighed, "I don't know."

"Ok, well we'll take full inventory back at Bobby's." Dean completed a quick once over and noticed blood dripping from his brother's palm. "You're bleeding."

Sam reached up for the side of his head where Lucifer had ripped out a chunk of hair but said nothing. He was fixated on the water. Pieces of Castiel's body were floating across the surface of the water. Small bloody pieces of flesh. An arm, a foot, part of a ribcage, and then finally Sam saw the worst of it all: Castiel's head. It bobbed up and down like an apple in a barrel of water. It was awful.

"Sam?"

Sam turned to his brother, with a look of horror on his face expecting to see Dean in a similar state, but Dean appeared more heartbroken than disgusted and nauseous.

"Put some pressure on that hand Sam, you're loosing a lot of blood."

Sam nodded, but didn't do anything to stop the bleeding. Instead, he looked back out at the water, but the torn pieces of Cas were nowhere to be seen. Sam started to wonder if they had ever been there in the first place. The only thing left of Cas in the water was his trench coat. Sam walked forward and picked up Cas's bloody, soaking wet trench coat that had floated over to the edge of the water.

Without a word he folded it and handed it to Dean.

"Thanks." Dean said. He looked down at the item in his hands. Cas was gone, and he didn't know how to feel. Scared, sad, angry? He wasn't sure.

SPNSPN

Back at Bobby's the three hunters were able to finally take a deep breath and think about what had just happened.

Dean looked at his reflection in a mirror in Bobby's study.

"What the hell did Cas do to me?" Dean asked looking at the new pigment in his right eye.

"You feel any different?" Bobby asked cracking open a beer.

"No," Dean said. There was uncertainty in his voice. "Well, maybe. I feel like me. But awake. More awake then I've felt in years."

"Awake?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, you know," Dean shrugged, "like I got more than two hours of sleep. Like I was a kid again. Just more energy I guess."

Bobby handed Dean a beer. As soon as the liquid touched Dean's tongue he spewed the alcohol from his mouth.

"What is this crap?" Dean asked wiping the taste from his lips.

"Same crap you've been drinking for years," Bobby said. Bobby grabbed Dean's bottle and took a swig. "Tastes fine… You sure you're not possessed?"

"Yeah, Bobby, I think I'd know if an angel was possessing me, especially if it was Cas."

"Ok, so Cas gave you an energy boost and took away your taste buds?" Bobby said. He was trying to piece this whole mess together.

"Great. My one guilty pleasure. Gone."

"One?" Bobby said, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, you're one to talk," Dean said. He looked to Sam who had been silently sitting on the couch ever since arriving at the house. "How's the hand?"

Sam didn't look to his brother. He was looking into the air next to him on the couch.

"Sam," Dean said louder.

Sam took in a deep breath then looked up at Dean and Bobby with confusion.

"Huh?"

"Your hand?" Dean asked again.

"Fine, it's fine," Sam said. His voice was quiet.

Dean pulled up a chair across from Sam and took the gimp hand into his own. He unwrapped the makeshift bandage he had tied on in the car to get a better look at it.

"It's deeper than I thought," Dean said. "We'll need to stitch you up."

Sam just nodded.

"Wish I could just heal it for you," Dean gently ran a finger over the cut. The cut closed.

Sam pulled his hand back in fear.

"What?!" Sam choked out. "Dean?"

Dean looked into Sam's shocked eyes with his own look of fear.

"Dude," Dean stammered, "I don't know."

Bobby stepped closer to the brothers for a better view.

Sam scooted away from Dean, unsure if he was even who he claimed he was.

"Look, I gave Dean-o angel magic! Fun huh?" Lucifer said with a chuckle.

"How did you do that?" Bobby asked.

"I don't know!" Dean looked down at his hands.

"Angel magic?" Sam asked Lucifer. But it was Bobby who answered.

"Yeah, must be angelic. Castiel's angelic power or grace?" Bobby took of his trucker hat and ran a hand through his hair.

"So I'm an angel now?" Dean asked.

"I don't know if it's that simple," Bobby said, "if it was Castiel's grace that went in you I don't know if makes you an angel, or just a man with an angel's powers."

Dean's mind was racing. Cas had said something about healing Sam. Healing what though, just a hand? Or the whole wall that came crumbling down? Because it looked like Sam was doing alright without the help of the Great Wall of Sam.

"I'll hit the books," Bobby said with a sigh.

Sam stood to follow Bobby over to the bookshelf.

"Sam, you should get some rest." Dean said.

"I'm fine." Sam said, trying to convince Bobby, Dean, and himself.

"You sure about that?" Dean said, "Because a few hours ago you were unresponsive with a broken brain on a cot."

"I'm fine Dean, I mean it." Sam said. He even managed to muster up half a smile. Even if this was one of Lucifer's made up worlds, Sam didn't want to be a burden to his brother. Dean had enough on his plate.

"Well if there was one break I was praying we'd catch, that's it."

"Praying? You?" Sam asked.

"Only when I'm desperate or drunk." Dean said. He poured back another swig of beer. Then coughed it out causing Sam and Bobby to share a smile.

"Let's fix this Bobby." Dean growled, "Now."

"Your liver is on its last leg," Dean said, retracting his hand from Bobby's head. "Cool!"

"My impending sclerosis is not 'cool,'" Bobby said while raising a glass of whiskey to his lips.

"No, but my awesome powers are," Dean looked down at his hands.

"Ok so healing, teleportation, heightened senses, invisibility, and the ability to diagnose with a touch." Bobby said looking down at his list.

"And I'm sure I could tap into that whole angel radio thing, but it's too confusing and loud."

"Cas never," Sam interrupted himself with a yawn, "never slept, right?"

"Damn it!" Dean cursed. "I'm not even tired."

"Most folks would consider that a blessing." Bobby said. "Speaking of sleep, let's call it a night. We'll pick this up in the morning."

Sam nodded and yawned again.

"What am I supposed to do?" Dean asked throwing his hands up in the air.

"House could use a good cleaning," Bobby suggested.

Sam tried to hide his laughter.

"Ha. Ha. Ha." Dean said.

A few hours later, Dean found himself casually dusting the books in the den.

"No wonder Cas looked so miserable all time." Dean mumbled to himself, "couldn't ever get a good night's rest."

Suddenly, Dean stopped his dusting. He could hear Sam whimpering and tossing upstairs and down the hall. This super hearing could prove to be a blessing a curse. Dean, feeling the urge to hurry to his brother's side, opted to teleport into Sam's room.

Sam had a white-knuckle grip on the sheets at his side. Even though he was only wearing a pair of sweatpants and a thin shirt, sweat coated every inch of his skin. His jaw was clenched and his eyes pinched shut.

"Guess you aren't as fine and you thought," Dean whispered to his baby brother. He placed a cool hand on Sam's soaking forehead and instantly felt the urge to recoil. Upon touching his brother, visions of hell bombarded his brain.

"Oh Sammy," Dean said. He took a seat next to his sleeping brother. Dean shared in his brother's hell for a moment before realizing there was probably something he could do about it.

Dean closed his eyes and focused on a memory from a few years back. Dean was twenty-one and Sam was a sulky seventeen. Dad was on a hunt a few hours away and had called them up to fill them in on another nearby case that needed some attention.

Dean projected the scene into Sam's head and watched as visions of hell were pushed aside.

 _"_ _So Dad dumps us here because his hunt is too dangerous for us to tag along on, but now he wants us to go stomping off into the woods on our own for some different stupid hunt?" Sam asked. He flopped down on the creaky motel bed. He was still adjusting to his new length and every move he made looked awkward and clumsy._

 _"_ _Sounds about right." Dean said. He continued polishing his weapons and didn't bother looking up. He knew exactly what kind of face Sam was wearing._

 _"_ _That doesn't make you mad?" Sam asked. He didn't wait for an answer, "Of course it doesn't. You're dad's perfect little soldier. You would never question General John Winchester."_

 _"_ _Shut up Sam," Dean said._

 _"_ _Why do we have to jump at his every command?" Sam asked. "Why does he get to control every single day of our lives?"_

 _"_ _He's our dad." Dean said._

 _"_ _So what?" Sam countered. "He's just our dad. He's not our warden. He's not our parole officer. He's not God."_

 _"_ _Sam," Dean ran a hand down his face, "what do you want me to say?"_

 _Sam only took a long deep breath. It wasn't until minutes later that he spoke again._

 _"_ _I just wish we could do something, anything, without dad breathing down our necks. Sometimes it feels like I can't even take a crap without dad hearing about it and giving feedback, telling me I managed to screw that up somehow."_

 _"_ _That reminds me," Dean pulled out his phone, "you took a crap earlier and I forgot to tell dad."_

 _Sam threw a lopsided pillow at his brother's head._

 _"_ _Get some rest Sammy, we'll head out in the morning." Dean said tossing the pillow back on Sam's bed._

 _But when Sam woke he wasn't in his squeaky motel bed. He was folded awkwardly on the backseat of the Impala._

 _"_ _What?" Sam asked, shielding his eyes from the streaks of sunlight that poked through the clouds and car windows._

 _"_ _Good morning princess," Dean shouted, "and welcome to the Michigan Music Fest!"_

 _"_ _Huh?"_

 _"_ _Best booze, babes, and rock'n roll this side of the Mississippi," Dean said tossing a crumpled flyer in Sam's face. "Found that in motel trash. We made it in time for the final two days."_

 _"_ _But the hunt?" Sam's brain was finally starting to catch up._

 _"_ _Called Uncle Bobby, he said he could take care of it. Told him not to say anything to dad and he assured me that wouldn't be a problem since they haven't said two words to each other in the past three years." Dean took his eyes off the road for a minute to turn and give his brother a smile. "You ready for some off the grid, AWOL action?"_

 _"_ _Sir yes sir," Sam smiled so wide that Dean was afraid he'd split his face open._

For the next few hours Dean kept Sam's mind occupied with the events of those two days. The music, food, underage drinking (on Sam's part), fancy hotel stay paid for with cash from a successful round of hustling, bar fight following a not-so-successful round of hustling, and girls with shiny hair and low-cut t-shirts.

When the sun started to creep into the room, and Sam started to wrestle his way into consciousness, Dean popped into the kitchen.

"Where you been?" Bobby asked. He was frying an egg.

"Out," Dean said. Trying to play it cool.

"Please, enough with the details," Bobby said.

"I'm sensing… sarcasm?" Dean said pretending to tap into his newfound powers.

"You have a gift." Bobby slid the fried egg onto a plate.

"Yeah, one that just might come in handy," Dean said. He reached for the egg but Bobby swatted away his hand.

"I don't need you spewin' anything out in my kitchen."

"Fair point," Dean said eyeing the food, "I'm not actually hungry. I just miss eating."

"It's not even been a full twenty-four hours."

"It's been long enough," Dean said.

 **SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Please review if you have a second and let me know what you think!**


	3. Stick Around

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the characters.**

 **Thanks for reading, favoriting, and following!**

 **SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Upstairs, Sam rolled up out of bed. He ran his fingers through his hair and headed for the bathroom. Lucifer was waiting inside. He was sitting on the lid of the toilet, reading. Sam closed his eyes and reopened them. Lucifer was still there.

"I just have a few more pages to go. Don't let me hold you up. Continue as if I wasn't here."

Sam sighed and did just that. He prepped his face for a shave and grabbed his razor. As he slid the cheap, disposable razor down his cheek he removed a few days worth of stubble along with a thick layer of skin. Sam dropped the razor and reached for his face; pulling his hand away, he saw there was no blood or broken skin. He slowed his breathing and picked the razor up again. Gently, he placed the razor against his cheek and started again.

"Finished!" Lucifer shouted. The sudden outburst caused Sam to dig the razor deeper into his flesh than he anticipated. Blood started to trickle out from Sam's jawline.

"I'm a fast reader," Lucifer stood and leaned in close. "You're bleeding."

The devil reached over, wiped the blood off of Sam's face, and then licked his bloody finger.

"Mmm, tasty. Just a hint of demon blood these days."

Sam opened his mouth to comment, then thought better of it. He continued shaving with the devil peering over his shoulder. He managed to only nick himself three more times in the process. Once finished, he reached into the shower and started heating up the water. Growing up he always appreciated his visits to Bobby's for multiple reasons, one of those being the never-ending supply of steaming hot water.

"Do you mind?" Sam asked as he looked back and forth between Lucifer and the shower.

"Sam, you can scrub that body of yours all you want, but you and I both know you'll never be able to wash away the filth within."

Sam sighed. He tried to sound annoyed, but really when Lucifer would make those snide little comments they hurt more than he wanted to admit. After all, Satan had been in his brain. He knew every thought Sam had ever entertained.

"Hop in. Water's hot as hell." The devil said with a little laugh. He sat back down on the toilet seat lid. "I'll wait here with your towel."

Sam wanted Lucifer out. Out of the bathroom. Out of his mind. But from the looks of things, he wasn't going anywhere. Sam played with the hem of his sleep shirt for a second.

"No need for modesty. Not after all we've been through."

Sam's face flushed red with embarrassment and anger. As much as he hated to admit it…the devil was right. Besides there was a 50% chance that the devil wasn't even there and this was all just the creation of his broken brain. No need to be embarrassed in front of a hallucination. He quickly stripped down and stepped into the shower. He closed his eyes and spent the next ten minutes trying to tune out Lucifer's singing.

"Morning." Sam said sitting down at the breakfast table.

"Here. Eat." Dean said sliding a plate of food towards his brother, "I sure as hell can't."

Sam looked to Bobby with a little smile in the corner of his lips.

"Yer bleeding," Bobby said.

Dean reached for Sam's face, but Sam jerked his head back instinctively.

"Little old to be cutting your face up that much during a morning shave Sammy," Dean said.

"Old razor." Sam said.

"Here, let me –"

"No, it's fine. They're small cuts."

"Sam –"

"I said I'm fine."

"Soo…" Bobby said, "we think Cas gave Dean his grace before being taken out by those Leviathans. With the grace, Dean is able to exhibit angel-like abilities and qualities without actually being an angel. We've been talking about whether or not Dean is a regular mortal or if he can only be taken out with an angel blade, but it's not something we really feel like putting to the test. 'Nuther thing we don't know is if this power will fade or not. Don't know if it will last forever or if he'd keep needing more and more of it in order to keep his angelic powers like you did with…" Bobby cut himself off.

"Like I did with the demon blood." Sam said in a small voice.

"All Bobby's saying is, we don't really know what's up." Dean said. "In the meantime, we'll just conduct business as usual. As long as you're feeling up to it."

"I'm good." Sam said. He took a big bite of breakfast to prove that he had an appetite and everything was kosher.

"That's good." Dean said, watching his baby brother try to pull the wool over his eyes, "but you know if you're ever not good, that's fine too."

Sam nodded, looking unconvinced.

"You boys should hang around for a while," Bobby said. "There's no need to go rushing off when we don't know what kind of mess we have ahead of us."

Both Winchesters nodded in agreement.

The day passed slowly. Bobby buried himself in books and research. Sam tried to help for a while but every time he started reading he devil would blow the pages back and forth so that Sam couldn't even finish one page. He decided to go keep Dean company in the garage.

"You finally realize that research is boring?" Dean asked.

"Just felt like I could use a change of venue," Sam said taking a seat. "Hey, speaking of venues. You remember that time you took me to that Michigan Music Festival?"

"Of course," Dean smiled. "How could I forget."

"It's weird. I hadn't thought about it in years and then last night I had the most vivid dream about it. It was like we were back there again."

"Huh. Random."

"Yeah," Sam said. He picked up a tool and started fiddling with it. "You know, that was probably the most fun I ever had as a teenager."

"What? Come on Sammy, don't tell me you had more fun hanging out in bars with hot chicks than you did at your mathletes tournament!"

"Jerk." Sam smiled and threw a dirty rag at Dean.

"Bitch."

 **SPNSPNSPNSPN**

 **Thanks again for reading. Please review!**


	4. Night Out

**Hope you guys are liking this story. Sorry this took a while to post. Thanks for reading!**

 **SPNSPNSPNSPN**

The next few days were quiet. Bobby, Sam, and Dean stayed on alert, but there were no reports of any freaky accidents or horrific murders. It was almost too quiet. The days were spent pouring over lore on angels and leviathan and fixing up cars when the research became too overwhelming. Dean spent the nights keeping Sam's subconscious mind busy with memories and dreams.

"I think I'll hit the local watering hole," Dean announced one evening grabbing his jacket.

"Ain't you forgetting something?" Bobby asked.

"I know I can't drink," Dean said, "but there are other reasons for going out. Socializing, for one, I mean don't get me wrong...You two are great, but I could use a little female companionship."

"Just know that when you come home, you best come home alone." Bobby said. He knew the boys weren't monks, but he didn't want to deal with all the awkwardness of a woman being in the house. At least, not one that Sam or Dean brought in.

"Bobby! I can't believe you think I would participate in sinful behavior. Perhaps you've forgotten: I'm an angel." Dean gave a wink before grabbing his keys and heading for the door. He knew he could have just popped over there, but he liked the time driving gave him. Behind the wheel of the Impala he could breath and feel a sense of normalcy. Dean took the time to drive a little closer into town, knowing that if he stayed too far out on the fringes he would only find drunks and loners.

Dean swirled the beer around in his bottle. He had ordered it out of habit, but luckily had remembered no to take a sip. There were a few women here and there, but they were all being entertained or bored to death by the other men in the joint. He was starting to think that being a non-drinker at a bar was about as fun as being a blind person at an art museum. He was so lost in his thoughts about his depraved state that he didn't even notice the tall brunette that slid up beside him.

"You have a full beer right in front of you and you still look like you could use a drink."

Dean turned to look at the woman to his right.

"I'm Veronica." She said.

"Dean."

"Dean," Veronica locked eyes with him and instantly started studying them, "you probably get this all the time, but your eyes are incredible."

"Nah, usually women just complement my ass. Thanks for keeping your eyes up here."

"Well, you do have a nice butt. But those eyes."

"Yours aren't so bad either." Dean said.

"Eyes or butt?" Veronica asked.

"Both. Buy you a drink?"

"I'll take that one you've been holding for me."

Dean handed over his beer.

"So, Veronica, tell me about yourself."

"Not much to tell," Veronica said, "I'm a Capricorn. I like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain. You?"

"Sounds like we were made for each other. I love all the same things." Dean smiled. "So tell me Veronica, what else do you like to do here in Sioux Falls? Aside from picking up men in bars."

"Hmm tough question. Not much else. When I'm not here, hitting on attractive men, I usually end up going to work."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean people's lives depend on me." Veronica said with a sarcastic shrug and a smile.

"Is that so?" Dean asked, he was becoming more and more interesting in this woman by the second. She was smart and funny and gorgeous.

"All jokes aside, yes, I'm an ER doctor down at Sioux Falls General."

"Brilliant and beautiful. What did I do to deserve the opportunity to meet you?"

"Nothing yet, but I'm sure you'll prove yourself." Veronica smiled and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She raised the beer bottle to her lips to take her first sip since stealing it away from Dean when her phone beeped urgently. "I've got to take this."

Dean nodded that he understood. It wasn't often that he met wildly successful women in the dive bars he frequented. Truth be told, he was a little intimidated, but then there was something outrageously sexy about a strong successful woman.

"Nobody can be reached? … I'm not on call… I understand. I'll be right in." Veronica turned to Dean. "I hate to do this, but I'm needed down at the hospital."

"Hey," Dean threw his hands up in surrender, "you've got lives to save."

Veronica smiled. Dean watched as she walked away. Once she was gone there was no reason to hang round the bar any longer. Dean fired up the Impala and cruised on back to Bobby's place. Pulling up to the front of the house Dean knew something was wrong. Every light was burning bright. He switched off the engine, jumped up the stairs, and through the front door.

"Bobby!? Sam!?" Dean listened for an answer but heard nothing. He quickly marched through every room and found them all empty. He was in the act of pulling out his phone when Bobby came bursting into the house.

"Bobby, what the hell?" Dean asked the flustered hunter.

"It's Sam."

That was all Dean needed to hear in order for him to go into full on panic mode.

"What happened? Where is he?" Dean asked.

"Hell if I know." Bobby was clearly freaking out enough without Dean there to rile him up further, "Bout twenty minutes after you left, Sam came running downstairs and knocked me out cold."

Dean had been so concerned over Sam that he hadn't even taken the time to notice the lovely bruise forming along Bobby's jawline.

"When I woke up, he was gone. I searched the house and the yard. He didn't take a car so he can't be too far."

"Right," Dean said taking a breath, "We'll find him."

"Didn't Cas tag yer ribs? Just wave your magic halo or something." Bobby said.

Dean closed his eyes and tried to focus his thoughts in on Sam.

"I can't." Dean said in exasperation, "I don't know how."

"Come on boy, try harder." Bobby urged.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and tried again. He couldn't see Sam but when he really tried hard to tap into his brother's mind he felt a shiver run down his spine. Sam was scared, scratch that, he was freaking out, and he was in physical pain too. Dean took a deep breath and focused. Images popped into his head: clean white tile, bloody hands, Veronica, Sioux Falls General.

"I know where he is." Dean reached out and grabbed Bobby's upper arm and in the next instant they were standing outside of Sioux Falls General Hospital.

"Maybe a little warning next time," Bobby said.

"Sorry." Dean led the way into the ER and up to the desk agent.

"I'm looking for my brother," Dean said.

"Sam Jones," Bobby interjected.

"Yeah, brown hair, about as tall as a sasquatch."

"Well," the man at the desk looked down at his computer screen, "there's nobody here under that name, but we had a John Doe come in recently matching that description. Let me just –"

"Ian, where are we with – " Veronica cut off the receptionist as she briskly approached his desk. She stopped when she saw Dean and anther man standing there looking nervous. "Dean?"

"Veronica. My brother. Is he back there? His name is Sam." Dean wanted to know everything, and he wanted to know now, "Can I see him?"

"Ok, slow down. Your brother, would he have been out near Singer Salvage not too long ago?"

"Yes! Yes, that's him. I need to see him."

"Dean, you need to calm down a little. I know this is frightening, but Sam is ok. I just gave him a mild sedative. Why don't we both go back and see him and you can help fill out his medical history. That will help me treat him better."

Dean nodded.

Veronica looked to Bobby.

"He's our uncle," Dean explained.

Veronica nodded and led the group back to Sam's room.

"Somebody found him passed out on the side of the road not too far from the salvage yard." Veronica opened Sam's door and turned to the nurse in the room, "We found his family."

"Good," the nurse said her voice full of sympathy, "he can use their support."

The nurse left the room, giving them some privacy.

"What's wrong with him? What happened?" Dean asked.

"I treated him for multiple lacerations, and a broken ankle…"

"Must'ave tripped and fell." Bobby said.

"Yes," Veronica continued, "and I'm assuming he fell after a significant loss of blood. The veins in his wrists were torn to shreds. Based on the debris embedded in his skin, he was using rocks and sticks to cut his wrists open."

Dean took a deep breath and looked at his resting giant of a brother. Watching his brothers chest rise and fall, Dean felt a small amount of peace. He was alive. They could make this ok.

"He's going to be ok," Dean said. Veronica wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question.

"Luckily we got to him in time. Physically, he should be fine. Do you know what would cause your brother to harm himself?" Veronica asked.

Dean turned to Bobby.

"PTSD," Bobby said with confidence, "Sam came back from active duty a few years ago. Hasn't been the same since. We look after him; help with medications and therapy and all that. He was doing better, but an old buddy of his caught some friendly fire a few days ago. We thought he was dealing with it alright. I told Dean I'd keep an eye on him tonight, but I fell asleep to damn early. Didn't have a chance to give him his night meds."

"That makes sense," Veronica looked down at Sam with sadness in her eyes. "He woke up when he was brought in and he kept fighting us, telling us to let him die. He kept apologizing over and over. Begging us not to let anyone else suffer because of him."

Dean couldn't stop the single tear that fought its way out and down his cheek.

"I'm sorry Dean," Bobby said, "this is my fault."

"Nobody is to blame here," Veronica said, "we will have to keep him here for 24 hours. It's hospital policy."

"I understand." Dean said. He took a seat at Sam's bedside. "I'll stay with him."

"I can help you with those records." Bobby said.

Veronica nodded and followed Bobby out of the room.

 **SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

 **Please Review**

 **Let me know what you think!**


	5. Easier

**First of all let me apologize. I didn't forget about this story, but I've just been so busy. I moved to a foreign country, started a postgraduate program, and it's been great and wonderful but also kind of hectic and insane soooo I had this story on the back burner. I want to finish it though so I'm back in the game!**

 **SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Thirty minutes later Bobby came back into the room with coffee and a grim expression.

"This ain't good," Bobby said, handing a cup to Dean and looking down at Sam's still figure.

"Yeah, thanks for that lovely understatement." Dean said. He intended to sound snarky but the worry in his voice was obvious. "I can't do anything for him here."

"And he ain't leavin' anytime soon." Bobby whispered, "They got eyes on him for the next 24 hours…minimum."

"Can't we say something about a transfer to the VA or something?"

"Too much paperwork. I think we're just going to have to wait it out." Bobby sighed and couldn't help but stare at the large white gauze wrapping around each of Sam's wrists. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Bobby, stop. This, it's not your fault." Dean meant it. Sam could have done this on anyone's watch. Hell, Dean didn't even know he needed Sam to be "on watch."

"Well, don't change the fact that I'm still sorry about it." Bobby said. He lowered himself into a soft armchair in the corner of the room.

"Why?" Dean asked Sam in a barely audible voice.

SPNSPNSPNSPN

"You hear that?" Lucifer asked Sam. "Big brother wants to know why you did this to yourself."

Sam looked at Satan out of the corner of his eye. In Sam's mind they were sitting in Bobby's living room, watching the hospital room on a small old-fashioned television.

"We should really put the subtitles on," Lucifer said reaching for the remote.

"Where am I really?" Sam asked.

"Sammy, we've already gone over this," Lucifer said, rolling his eyes. "You're in the cage. With me. Netflix and Chill pals for life."

"So, I'm in the cage, and I'm just imagining myself out in the real world with Dean and Bobby, and within that imagination I'm unconscious and imagining us here watching that imagination."

"It's all very Inception isn't it?" Lucifer said with a laugh. "Speaking of which, ten bucks says DiCaprio comes to me for an Oscar within the next ten years."

They sat quietly on the couch, watching Dean's vigil.

"Why go to all this trouble?"

"Because I like to watch you wiggle." Lucifer said giving Sam's ribs a poke.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

"Sammy?" Dean said. He hadn't taken his eyes off of his brother since entering the room. He watched Sam squirm, and instinctively reached out to calm his brother. When he touched him he noticed the coolness of his skin, but he didn't feel any internal or mental anguish. "You doing ok?"

Dean looked over to Bobby, who had slipped into dreamland not too long ago.

"How are we doing in here?" Veronica asked, entering the room.

"No change."

"Yes, well I can see that, much like Sam, you haven't changed position either. You know, when I said he'd be under a 24 hour watch I didn't mean that you personally had to undertake that task."

"Yeah, well," Dean ran a hand over his tired face, "he's my little brother."

Dean noticed Veronica give Sam a once over and then look pointedly down at Sam's feet hanging over the edge of the bed.

"Ok," Dean said, "not so little brother."

"So, after reviewing the x-ray we took of your brother's ankle it looks like we will need a plaster cast. I was hoping to avoid that because of the inconvenience of it, but it's the best way to go." Veronica said.

"Do we wait for him to wake up for that?"

"I thought we would, although honestly I'm surprised that he hasn't woken up already, not that that's anything to be worried about. It's just that it was a very mild sedative." Veronica smiled, "I'm sure he will wake up very soon."

"Can we put the cast on while he's still asleep though?" Dean asked, "That way it's just done."

"Sure."

The cast was applied and Veronica started to clean up when Dean spoke up.

"Doesn't he get a color?"

"Now I know why you wanted this done while he slept," Veronica smiled. "What color?"

"Pink."

"Why did I even bother asking." Veronica laughed, "Dean, he can pick a color when he wakes up."

"Come on, please?" Dean flashed Veronica a winning smile.

"Dean." Veronica shook her head.

"Please?" Dean asked, this time with sincerity, "it will make him smile."

Veronica felt a tug on her heart.

"Pink it is."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Lucifer wiped a fake tear from his cheek.

"Shut up," Sam said.

"I didn't even say anything!" Lucifer said in defense. "But I will say this: I hope Dr. Hotlips winds up with CrazyGuy's male model brother. What do you think?"

"Impossible." Sam said, sounding defeated, "Once CrazyGuy wakes up, male model brother will get over protective and they'll leave and Dr. Hotlips will only ever be seen again in his dreams because CrazyGuy makes it impossible for his brother to have a normal life."

"Wow," Lucifer said, "you're good at this."

"It's the same thing every time."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

The pink cast was finished and Veronica took off to go check on other patients. A few more hours passed before Bobby made an indiscernible noise and stood to stretch.

"Hasn't woke up yet." Bobby said more as a statement than a question.

"Nope."

Bobby rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then saw the cast.

"You're gonna pay for that."

Dean just smiled.

"I'll go get some more coffee…for me. You should get some sleep."

"I will. Once Sammy wakes up."

As if on cue, Sam slowly opened his eyes and turned to face his brother.

"Hey," Sam said. He tried to raise his had up to brush some hair out of his eyes, but found his arms to be loosely tied down.

"Hey," Dean said. He reached up and pushed the hair out of Sam's eyes. "How're you feeling? Are you in any pain? I can help if you are. Just say the word."

"I'm fine," Sam said. Dean gave his brother a questioning stare, so he added, "Really. I'm not in pain. Just a little sore. My arms?"

"Sam do you remember what happened?" Bobby asked taking a step closer to the bed.

"It's kind of fuzzy," Sam lied, and prayed that Dean would be tired enough to buy it. "I remember having a bad, really bad dream. Leviathans everywhere, you were one so I had to knock you out. I ran away, but they followed me, fought me, and bled into me. I had to get the blood out. So… After that, I don't know."

Dean and Bobby nodded, taking in the story. It seemed plausible enough.

"I'd believe it." The devil whispered in his mind.

"Look who decided to wake up," Veronica said entering the room. The three men turned their attention to the doctor. "How are you feeling, physically, Sam?"

"Uh, physically? I feel fine." Sam's voice was soft and he kept his eyes looking down at his hands.

"Ok that's good. I know it's been a rough evening for you, so I don't want to burden you with too many questions, but I do need to run through some evaluation questions in order to figure out the best treatment method. Is it alright if we do that now?"

"Sure." Sam said with a little bit of a shrug.

"Great," Veronica turned to Dean and Bobby, "This won't take very long, you can wait just down the hall and I'll come get you as soon as we're done."

"We can't stay?" Dean asked, his eyes darting towards Sam. He didn't want to leave his brothers side for a second.

"It's best if this is done confidentially."

"Come on son, let's go get that coffee." Bobby said clapping a hand on Dean's shoulder. "We can come right back when they're done."

"Ok," Dean cleared his throat, "Sammy, I'll just…ok. You'll be fine."

Sam nodded.

Once alone together, Veronica took a set in the chair Dean had been sitting in.

"It seems like you have a very loving family." Veronica stated warmly. She took out a pen, clicked it, and turned to face Sam.

"Dr. Hotlips sure likes that brother of yours," Lucifer said as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. "'Loving family' indeed. More like she wants to make love to your family."

"Shut up," Sam said, forgetting that he was no longer on the couch with Lucifer and no one else.

"Excuse me?" Veronica asked, not quite sure what she had done to annoy the man in the bed before her.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean," Seam took a breath, "I was just thinking, but not thinking of saying that…to you. It just slipped out. I'm sorry."

"That's ok, Sam. I'm sure you have a lot on your mind right now." Veronica smiled sympathetically before continuing. "Now Sam, your uncle briefed me on your military background and the recent events that have caused some emotional unrest in your life. Tell me, is this the first time you've made an attempt on your life?"

"What should we tell her Sammy?" Lucifer asked. "If we say yes then maybe she'll send you on your way with just a slap on your wrist."

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but the devil covered it with his hand.

"Wait, you're not really going to lie to the nice lady are you? Don't you remember? You threw yourself into the cage. Self-sacrifice. Then of course there were all those other times you tried to off yourself in the cage." Satan laughed, as if remembering a funny inside joke, "As if you could kill yourself. Remember all those failed attempts? Slashed wrists, pulling out your own entrails, impaling yourself, shall I continue?"

Sam shook his head no.

"No?" Veronica's voice was calm and steady, "Do you have plans to attempted suicide again?"

"No," Sam said clearly, realizing that if he didn't work harder to keep Lucifer out of this he would wind up in some kind of loony bin. "No, I mean I haven't tried before and I don't plan on trying again. I wasn't even trying this time."

"You can tell me the truth Sam. I'm here to help."

"I am telling you the truth. I promise."

"Ok, then why are you here tonight Sam? How did you get those deep cuts on your wrists?"

"I…" Sam wracked his brain trying to come up with an explanation. "I…I didn't mean for this to happen."

Before he could do anything to help it, a tear snuck out from within him and spilled down his cheek. He reached to wipe it away but was stopped by the restraints.

"Here," Veronica carefully undid the restraints on Sam's arms and watched as he flicked the unwanted tear away. "Sam, when we first brought you in. You asked me something. Do you remember what you asked?"

Sam nodded.

"You wanted me to let you die. Is that still what you want?"

"I just," Sam sighed, "I just don't want to be broken anymore. My brother has spent his whole life picking me up and putting me back together. I don't think this time I can come out whole again. It just would have been easier, that's all."

"Easier for you to die?"

"No, easier for my family to live."

 **SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

 **Ok...what do you think? Like it? Please please review if you have a second!**

 **Thank you so much for reading!**


	6. Burning Up

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any part of it.

This chapter deals with some severe depression and heavy stuff. Just to warn you.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

"Ok, Sam I only have a few more questions for you," Veronica said in a soothing voice.

Sam nodded and looked down at the bandages on his wrists. They were think and clean and…on fire! They were on fire. Sam tried not to panic, he bit down on his lip trying to ignore the pain, but it was impossible. His skin was on fire and the smell of his burning flesh was making him nauseous. He grabbed for the bandages and started ripping them of with wild ferocity.

"Sam!" Veronica cried out, startled by Sam's sudden movements. "Stop, Sam. You're going to tear your stitches."

Sam couldn't hear her over the crackling and hissing of the fire. He threw the bandages off and saw that his stitches were on fire too. He started ripping out the stitches, but before he got too far Veronica took him by surprise and forced his hands back into their restraints. He tried to fight back, but with the blood loss and pain medication combination he was no match for the doctor.

"No!" Sam shouted, now crying tears of pain. Blood trickled out from the freshly opened wounds. Veronica called for a nurse and soon Sam was being patched up again.

"Sam, there are still a few more questions I would like to ask you, but I think we've done enough talking for tonight." Veronica watched as Sam bit down on his lip with enough force to draw blood. "Sam I'm admitting you here for the next few days. We have a wonderful inpatient program here. I really think it will help."

"Awww," Lucifer cooed, "The pretty doctor wants to help you!"

"No," Sam begged, "please. I just…I want to go home."

"I want you to go home too Sam, but I want to make sure that when you do go home you won't be a danger to yourself."

Veronica slid out of Sam's room and down the hall. She stopped off at the nurses station to make a few notes in Sam's chart before taking a deep breath and continuing on to deal with Sam's family. Dean stood as Veronica approached.

"He's good, right? We can take him home now." Dean spoke with confidence but his eyes showed the fear that lingered within.

"Dean, as I am sure you already know, your brother has gone though some very traumatic experiences."

"Yeah, he's a fighter."

"He is. But Dean, there are some battles that people can't fight on their own, no matter how strong they are."

"He's got me, and Bobby, don't worry. We always look out for him." Dean cleared his throat, "So, do we need to sign any discharge papers. You said he only had to stay 24 hours."

"First of all, it hasn't even been twelve hours Dean. And, I'm admitting Sam to our inpatient mental health and wellness program here at the hospital for one week." As she spoke the words Veronica could see the blood drain from Dean's face.

"No, you can't—"

"It's already done. Look, I know this isn't easy but I really believe this will be for the best. Sam can get the treatment and therapy he deserves, and you and your uncle can recharge. I know it's not easy looking after loved ones struggling with maintaining their mental health."

"Sam's 'mental health' is fine," Dean's voice was starting to rise and Bobby could sense the pent up emotions bubbling up, "he doesn't need you –"

"Dean," Bobby put a hand on the boy's shoulder, "you need to calm down son."

Dean wanted to lash out at Bobby, tell him to shove it, but after everything Bobby had been through tonight the last thing he needed was another unstable Winchester on his hands. He took a few deep breaths, and ran a hand over his five o'clock shadow.

"It's obvious to me that you both love Sam." A tender smile appeared on Veronica's face, "And I know he loves you both as well. I wasn't trying to insinuate that there was a lack of care on Sam's behalf or that he is not capable of putting up a good fight against this depression he is in. It's unfortunate that there is such a stigma surrounding mental health and wellness. I know it can be scary to see a loved one enter inpatient treatment, but really all this is doing is allowing Sam a safe place to heal and rest. It's just a seven-day program and at the end of it, if Sam is ready to go home and continue treatment from there then we can more forward with that. Okay?"

"Is, uh, is Sam ok with this?" Dean asked. His eyes were wet, but he was keeping the tears at bay. Looking up at Veronica it hit him that this woman he had been trying to seduce just a few hours ago, was now seeing a side of him that was rarely viewed by strangers.

"In a word, no," Veronica sighed, "but I can legally hospitalize him against his wishes if I feel that he is a threat to himself and after meeting with him, I couldn't send him home in good conscience."

Dean looked to Bobby. Sam was usually all about getting out of hospitals; if he was saying things that would cause him to stay longer he must really be in a bad place.

"What can we do to help?" Bobby asked.

"You're welcome to bring some personal belongings and hygiene items for Sam. You can bring them in later today or tomorrow if you like. The ward Sam will be staying in is on the third floor. You can visit in the afternoons from three to four."

"Can we uh, see him?" Dean asked. "Before we go?"

"Yes, but you should know that during my conversation with Sam ...he suddenly started to panic and began ripping out his stitches. We've re-stitched the wound and given him some morphine for the pain, so he may be a little out of it."

Bobby was trying to remain calm and collected, but this new information had him on edge. Sam wouldn't start ripping out stitches in front of a doctor if he could help himself.

Dean just nodded and made a beeline for Sam's room. Bobby stayed behind, getting a few more details from the doctor, allowing Dean to have a little one on one time with his brother. After a few minutes, Bobby approached Sam's room. From the hallway he could hear Dean trying to sound lighthearted.

"Are you sure you're not just doing all this so you can make me a macaroni necklace during craft hour?"

Sam didn't respond except for a small sound resembling a laugh.

"They won't let me hang around you all the time, but I'll be back later on. Three p.m. on the dot. Ok?"

"Threepmonthedot," Sam slurred. His head felt foggy, but at least the fire on his arms had stopped.

"That's right Sammy," Dean laid a hand down on his brothers.

Bobby entered the room and cleared his throat causing Dean to turn.

"Looks like he's flying pretty high right now," Bobby said, "guess we should head home."

Dean nodded but made no effort to leave.

"Dean?" Sam asked in a panic.

"I'm right here Sammy," Dean said squeezing his brother's hand, "I'm right here."

"Oh," Sam smiled and closed his eyes. "Kay, g'night."

"Goodnight Sammy." Dean stood and placed a gentle kiss on his brother's forehead. He didn't bother telling his brother that this hellish night was just about over and that the sun would soon be rising.

Before leaving Dean reached out and gently touched the tip of Sam's toes peaking out from their cast. With a single light touch he healed Sam's broken ankle. Maybe he couldn't heal the rest of him just yet, as that would be too suspicious, but there was no reason Sam had to deal with minor aches and pains.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Sam woke feeling groggy. There was a dull pain in his forearms, but surprisingly his ankle felt normal. Sam opened his eyes and looked around the small hospital room. Lucifer was nowhere in sight, that was a relief. He pressed the call button on the little remote that was placed next to his hand, and soon a thirty-something year old nurse appeared at Sam's bedside.

"I have to, uh, use the bathroom." Sam said turning a little pink.

The nurse simply nodded and pulled over a wheelchair. He locked the wheels and helped Sam out of his bed and into the chair. Sam almost laughed; Dean must have healed his ankle while he was asleep. But even though the ankle was fine he was stuck with this ridiculous pink cast and health care providers assuming he needed assistance getting around.

"Do you need help in here?" The nurse asked once inside the bathroom with Sam.

"No," Sam said, "thank you."

The nurse nodded again and stood in the open doorway facing out. Sam waited for a second but then remembered he was on suicide watch. His privacy was not the hospital staff's first concern.

Soon after his morning bathroom trip, the same nurse appeared in his room again, this time with a tray of breakfast food.

"'m not really hungry," Sam said as the tray was set before him.

"Try to eat something," the nurse encouraged, "you'll want to start building up your strength."

Sam looked down at the bland foods and noticed that the only utensil he was given was a spoon. Maybe the nurse was right. The more normal he was able to appear the sooner he could go back to Bobby's and be with his family. Sam picked up his spoon and dug into the oatmeal he had been given. He tried his best to finish his meal, but he could only eat about half of it before he started feeling queasy.

"Good morning, Sam." Veronica said as she entered his room. "I'm here to take up to the third floor and introduce you to your doctors up there. Do you need a little more time to finish eating?"

"No," Sam gently pushed the tray away, "I'm done."

Veronica watched as Sam struggled to work his way down from the hospital bed into his wheelchair. She offered to help but he politely declined.

Once on the third floor, Sam was outfitted with a plain white shirt and white drawstring pants.

"I told your family they can bring you some of your own clothes and other personal items when they come to visit." Veronica said wheeling Sam down to the lead psychiatrist's office. She pushed Sam through the open door and greeted the doctor with a smile. "Sam, this is Doctor Cooper. Doctor Cooper, Sam Jones."

"Pleasure to meet you Sam," the doctor said extending his hand for a handshake. Sam obliged and managed a meager smile. Doctor Cooper was a slender man in his early forties. He had a friendly face and wore glasses with thick black frames.

"Ok, I'll leave you to it." Veronica said taking her exit.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Back at Bobby's , Dean was pacing around the living room.

"You tryin' to wear a hole in my rugs boy?" Bobby asked. He poured himself a cup of coffee and almost poured a second for Dean before realizing that was unnecessary.

"This is ridiculous Bobby!" Dean exclaimed. "I'm given this freaky angel-mojo power and I can't even use it to help Sam because he gets himself locked up in a hospital. Hey! I could just zap him out of there. Bring him home."

"Yeah," Bobby said, "you could…Or…"

"Or what?"

"Or maybe it's best we let him spend a little time there. Let him rest up a little."

"Bobby? Come on, how is better for him to be there? He freaked out ok? He's not crazy. He's not. He's just had a rough couple months, hell a rough couple years. Those doctors don't know shit about him and what he's done. I'm the one who's a freakin' angel! I can help him more than they can."

"I ain't saying you're wrong there, Dean. You know I want him back here with us just as much as you do." Bobby said. He took a swig of his coffee. "But how about we let Sam decide? We'll see him in a few hours and if he wants out, you can zap him back when no ones looking."

Dean thought for a moment, considering Bobby's words. Dean had always looked out for Sammy, done what he thought best for him. But Dean knew how important it was that Sam felt like he was the one in control of his life.

"Fine. We'll ask Sam what he wants to do." Dean said. "What time is it?"

"Eleven." Bobby said glancing at the clock on the wall.

"What am I supposed to do until three?"

"Well, I'm sure this ain't want you wanna hear, but I think those Leviathan things are stretching their muscles." Bobby handed Dean a copy of the local paper. "A biker gang was slaughtered late last night at a bar on the edge of town. Only person in the establishment unaccounted for is the bartender, everyone else was torn to bits."

"Great."

"Worth checking in to. Don'tcha think?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah," Dean sighed, "I guess I can check it out. See what I can see."

Before Bobby had a chance to offer his help Dean had vanished before his eyes.

"Idjit."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you have a second and let me know what you think :)


	7. Talking it Out

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

Thanks to those who are reading and following! Big thanks to Badwolf40 for the kind review :)

Heads up: There is some depressing suicide talk in this chapter.

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Sam wheeled himself down the hallway into the common space. His interview with Doctor Cooper had gone much better than he expected. Lucifer hadn't shown up to the party, so Sam was able to answer each question in a focused and calm manner. He left out a few details, told a few lies, and was sure to appear regretful about his behavior the night before.

Sam looked up at the clock. Only a few more hours before Dean could come visit and Sam could put his brothers worries to rest.

"You're Sam, right?" A lanky teenaged kid asked. He held out his hand and Sam shook it.

"Uh, yeah," Sam said.

"I'm Pete. You're my new roommate." Pete smiled showing off a mouth full of metal braces. "The nurses told me to look for a big guy in a wheelchair with a pink cast and you seem to be the only guy who matches that description."

"Yep…that's me."

"Cool, well if you want to follow me, I'll show you where we stay."

Sam nodded and turned to follow Pete.

"Ok, here we are." Pete said stepping into a plain room with two twin beds. "Nothing too special but it does the trick."

Pete sat down on the bed closer to the window.

"Uh, cool." Sam said.

"Yeah, well now you know where to hang your hat." Pete smiled then stood up. "So you want to head back out to the common room? I think there's going to be some kind of activity in a little while. Unless you have the morning group session."

"Uh, yeah I think I might. But you go ahead, I'll catch up with you later." Sam said.

"Ok, cool!" Pete couldn't seem to stop smiling. He waved and left Sam alone in the room.

Sam looked down at his bed and could already tell it wouldn't accommodate his size very well. But after a lifetime of motel beds he was used to that. Sam was about to make the move from his chair to the bed when a tap on the open door distracted him.

"Dean!" Sam cried out with a smile. "I thought you couldn't visit until later."

"Yeah, well what can I say? Those nurses at the front desk couldn't resist my charm. So how are they treating you here?"

"It's not too bad," Sam shrugged. "I'm ready to go back to Bobby's though. I met with the doctor on this level and he seems pretty reasonable. Maybe by tomorrow I'll be able to leave."

"Yeah," Dean scratched the back of his neck, "about that."

"What?" Sam asked. Fear was starting to creep into his mind.

"Bobby's still a little shaken up about what happened. It might be best to give him some space for a while. You kind of freaked him out." Dean took another step into the room and leaned against the wall. "What were you thinking man?"

"I," Sam was starting to feel the blood rush to his face. He should have assumed he would have to explain himself better. "I mean, it's like I told you Dean. Bad dream. I didn't mean –"

"Yeah, you didn't mean it. I get it Sammy. What I don't get are those cuts on your arms."

"I told you, those things, they bled into me. In my dream, I had to…I had to get it out." Sam looked down at his hands to avoid eye contact with his brother. "It was just a dream. I didn't mean…"

"Sammy, I'm your brother. I know when you're lying to me. I know you've had a rough go of it since the wall came down. You don't have to try to shield me from whatever crap it is you're going through."

"Look, I'm fine. Ok? I'm fine." Sam could feel his defenses starting to come up.

Outside of Sam's room Doctor Cooper walked past the open door, but stopped just past the doorway when he heard Sam speaking aloud in the empty room.

"You're on the psychiatric floor of a hospital Sam, you're not fine." Dean spat out. "I'd say right about now you're pretty damn far from fine."

Sam's breath was fast and he was trying his best to keep all of his tears on the inside.

"So why don't you try telling me the truth for once. Why were you trying to kill yourself last night Sam?!"

"You wouldn't understand," Sam muttered.

"What?"

"You wouldn't understand," Sam repeated, louder this time.

"Then help me understand, Sam. I'm your brother. I want to understand. I've spent majority of my life trying to understand you Sam. Trying to fix you. Trying to save you. I've wasted so much time…on you. Maybe dad was right all those years ago. Maybe I should have just killed you, saved myself a lot of heartache. You're a burden, Sam, and every year you keep getting harder and harder to carry."

"You're right." Sam said in a small voice. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well that's not going to cut it. Being sorry isn't enough."

"I know…that's why –"

"That's why what? You tried to kill yourself so you could show how sorry you are?"

"No I–" Sam said.

"Was it a cry for attention? Was I not already giving you all my attention?"

"No." Sam said louder.

"Then why Sammy? Why did you do it? Are you just weak?" Dean sneered.

"I just wanted to get out of this fantasy and back to the cage, ok? That's why I did it!" Sam blurted out the words before he could stop himself. His breath hitched and a tear rolled down his cheek. "I'm sick of watching Lucifer parade you around in front of me in this pathetic replica world he's created for me. I don't like it. It's not right. Cas is dead. Bobby apparently hates me. And worst of all, you are trying so hard to help me and all I can do is disappoint you. It seems like that's all I can ever be. A disappointment. It's just… it's too much. Ok? I just want to go back to the cage. I can take the physical pain. But I can't take this."

Outside in the hall, Doctor Cooper's face was twisted in confusion. He had only just spoken with Sam and made notes about his positive recovery path. Now, things were starting to sound pretty ugly.

"Are you hearing this Lucifer? I'm done. You win this round. I'm tapping out." Sam screamed.

Dean smiled and started clapping. Before Sam's eyes he morphed from Dean into the devil he knew.

"Bravo," Lucifer said with a sneer. "Maybe not Oscar material but you could at least win Peoples Choice Award for that little performance."

Sam relinquished his control and allowed tears to flow freely.

"I would snap my fingers and put us right back in familiar territory, but you didn't end the game yet. You got close last night, but you're just going to have to try a little teensy bit harder if you want to come home to the Big Comfy Cage."

With those words Lucifer disappeared and Sam was left alone, but not for long.

"Sam?" Doctor Cooper entered the room cautiously.

Sam's eyes shot up to meet the doctor's and he quickly wiped the tears away.

"I came to get you for your first group therapy meeting." Doctor Cooper continued, "Are you feeling up to that this morning?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam cleared his throat, "yeah, I'm fine."

But as he spoke the words a little voice in the back of his head told him otherwise.

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean popped up just a little down the street from the scene of the crime. He didn't want to admit how much he was enjoying the travel perks Cas had bestowed upon him. He didn't want to betray Baby, but it was so convenient to be able to zap here or there without traffic or parking tickets. Even thinking this, Dean felt dirty. He would have to drive over to the hospital later to make up for it.

"Agent Young, FBI." Dean said flashing his fake badge, "What can you tell me about this one?"

"Well, it's not pretty." The young deputy said, "I'm Deputy Williams by the way. I'm new to the force, so if you really want the facts you'll have to speak with Sherriff Mills. She should be right inside."

"Thanks," Dean nodded and headed for the bar. Once inside he spotted Jody right away. "Sherriff Mills."

"Ah, Agent…"

"Young."

"Young, right." Jody said. As she looked at the man before her she realized her earlier suspicions were true. This wasn't the doing of your average maniac killer. Whatever had killed these men was a legitimate monster. "You're welcome to take a look around. Just be careful, it's messy and…wait a minute. Your eye? Was it always…?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm a rare beauty what can I say," Dean said flippantly.

"Uhh, ok well if you need anything let me know."

Jody was right, the scene was a mess. Blood, body parts, and mysterious black goo. Dean sniffed the goo and instantly knew what it was. Leviathan blood. After taking a few more minutes to look around Dean returned to Jody's side.

"Do you have a picture of the missing bartender?" Dean asked.

"Not at the moment but we're in the process of getting one printed out so we can start a search around the area, see if anyone has seen him since the incident."

"Great, uh, send a copy to Bobby's when you get it would you?"

"You got it," Jody said. "Do you…know what we're dealing with here?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Dean said, "but at the same time no. We know what to call it we just don't know –" Dean lowered it his voice to just below a whisper, "We just don't know how to kill it yet. But we're working on it."

Jody nodded.

"We'll keep you informed."

"Do that…Agent."

"Sherriff Mills!" Deputy Williams called out. "There's been a report of a man found in the forest not too far from here. The woman who found him says he doesn't know who he is but he matches the description of the missing bartender."

"Where is he now?" Jody asked.

"Staying with a Miss Daphne Allen. She's the one who called in. Found him on her morning jog."

"Let's check it out," Jody said. She turned to Dean, "You coming?"

"Yeah, but, I'm gonna need a ride."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading! I would love to hear what you think!

Please review :)


	8. The Right Dean

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

I know I'm manipulating some of the things that happen in early season 7 with this story. It's kind of a crazy mix of characters and scenes re-imagined and such. Also, I know my depiction of doctors/hospitals/mental health wards is waaayy off, sorry about that. Anyways, this story has been kind of insane, and it doesn't have too much longer to go until I wrap it up. Thanks to those who have read and reviewed and followed! The end is nigh...

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean and Jody approached Daphne Allen's front door with caution. It was possible the missing bartender was here; it was also possible that the missing bartender was a man-eating monster.

Daphne opened the door with a smile.

"Sheriff Mills," Jody said, "And this is Agent Young with the FBI."

"Come on in," Daphne said, "Emmanuel is anxious to meet anyone who might be able to tell him a little more about himself."

"Emmanuel?" Dean asked. He was pretty sure that wasn't the name of the man they were looking for.

"Well, that's just what I've been calling him. He told me he doesn't remember his name, where he is from, or anything really." Daphne explained as she led them through the front room and into the kitchen, "When I found him he was very confused…and naked."

"You!" Castiel shouted as soon as Dean entered the kitchen with Sheriff Mills. "You're an angel!"

"Aw, thanks," Dean said, trying to remain calm. His best friend, his best friend who had betrayed his trust and lied to him over and over, was standing right in front of him. Alive.

"This isn't our man," Sheriff Mills said in a whisper.

"Maybe not," Dean responded, "But he's coming with me."

"Hello, Ca—Emmanuel." Dean said. "I'm here to help you."

"I can see…" Cas's eyes darted wildly around Dean taking in his aura and his grace, "I can see who you are. What you are."

"Good," Dean said again, trying to sound friendly, "then you can see that I mean you no harm. I just want to help you, and I need you to help me ok?"

Cas nodded, still in awe.

"Miss Allen," Dean said, turning to the woman, "thank you for all you've done. I'll take him from here."

"Oh," Daphne said, obviously a little disappointed, "Oh, ok."

"Would you mind coming with me, Emmanuel?" Dean asked forcing a smile.

Cas nodded again and stood to follow Dean.

"I need to take him to Bobby's," Dean told Jody in a low voice, "keep me posted on the bartender and any new updates."

"Right," Jody said.

Dean led the awe-struck Castiel outside and around the corner. Once out of sight, Dean grabbed Cas's shoulder and in an instant they were standing in Bobby's living room.

"Dean!" Bobby jumped a little in his seat when he looked up from his reading. He had a mini heart attack when he saw the man Dean had standing next to him. He was wearing a pullover sweater instead of his usual trench coat but it was unmistakably Castiel. "Cas?"

"What…where?" Cas asked, looking to Bobby, "Is this heaven? He's not an angel."

"Yeah, look," Dean said addressing Bobby, "Long story short, I guess Cas is alive. He doesn't remember anything. What should we do?"

"Hell if I know," Bobby said standing to inspect the former angel. "He still got any grace?"

Dean shrugged.

"Boy, what good is it having you as an angel unless you actually tap into a few of your powers besides beaming yourself all over the place."

"Right," Dean said, understanding the task before him. "Ok, uh Emmanuel, you're right. I am an angel, and I'm going to see if I can figure out what you are and how to get you your memory back."

"Ok," Cas said smiling up at Dean. Dean couldn't help but think how innocent Cas looked. His face wasn't clouded with guilt and pain like it was the last time they saw each other.

Without another word, Dean brought his palm up to Castiel's forehead. He closed his eyes and tried his best to search inside of Cas's mind. After a few moments Dean lowered his hand and turned to Bobby.

"It's gone." Dean said, "There was only what might have been a trace of angelic grace. That's probably why he can see that I'm an angel. Other than that, he's empty."

"Empty?" Bobby asked.

"Where his memories should be, there is nothing. Whatever he was, whatever he knew is gone. He's just a human with no past. Useless." Dean sighed. He didn't know what he had expected. Maybe that he would be able to tap Cas's brain and bring back his friend. Maybe a part of him wanted Cas to remember everything as a punishment for the lies and the deceit. Dean stared hopelessly at the vessel in front of him, that's all Cas was now, an empty vessel.

"He's still Castiel's vessel," Bobby said, as if reading Dean's mind. "We gotta keep him safe. Half of hell is probably out looking for him, after what went down."

"So?" Dean asked.

"So?" Bobby spat back, "So? Dean, we may have our reasons for hating the guy, but at least in the end he tried to do right by you."

"I'm sorry," Castiel interjected, "you hate me? Did I do something wrong?"

"He tried to do right?" Dean asked, clearly ignoring Castiel, "Bobby, he probably only spewed his grace into me in a hail Mary attempt to save his own skin. He got all cryptic and told me to 'save Sam' from whatever he had done to him. For all we know, the only reason Sam is in the hospital now is because of this douche. So excuse me for not rolling out the welcome mat and offering him a cold beverage."

"I…am quite thirsty." Cas said.

Dean and Bobby turned to face Castiel.

"Look, I'll keep an eye on him here." Bobby said, "You go check in with Sam. When you get back we can figure out our next move."

"Fine." Dean said. He grabbed his keys, "I'm driving. You happy?"

SPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean was glad he decided to drive to the hospital. It gave him a little time to think about what he was going to say to Sam. He was anxious to see how his little brother was doing. If he had his fill of group hugs and finger painting. Dean thought back to the last time he was in a mental health unit; Dean was aching to get out. But he remembered Sam's hesitation, and that made him nervous.

Dean arrived at the hospital and grabbed the bag he and Bobby had prepared for Sam, just in case. Dean made his way up to the third floor and over to the reception desk.

"Hello," Dean said, "I'm here to visit Sam Jones. I have some personal effects for him."

Dean held up the bag, as if he needed to prove himself.

"Ok, take a seat." The receptionist said.

A few minutes later a doctor walked out and approached Dean.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Cooper," the man said.

"Dean."

"Well, it's great to meet you. If it's alright with you, I would love to take a few minutes to discuss Sam, before you go in and meet with him."

"Sure," Dean said. He followed the doctor down the hallway and into a small office. The two men sat, and Dean set the bag down on the ground.

"Dean," Doctor Cooper asked, "I understand Sam came to us as a result of an emergency caused by self-harm. Correct?"

"Right," Dean said shifting a bit in his seat, "but, he, uh usually he manages alright and that's not a problem."

"Ok, well, I have to be honest with you. Sam's condition is much more serious then I originally thought." Doctor Cooper said with a sigh. "Dean, I believe your brother is suffering from severe schizophrenia."

"What? No." Dean said shrugging off the doctor's words. Sure Sam might be a little depressed, and honestly the kid probably was dealing with some PTSD, but schizophrenia? No.

"Hear me out," Doctor Cooper said, "Now, when Sam first came in I met with him and we had a perfectly normal conversation. He told me that he had been feeling a bit down, told me about some personal losses that had messed with his mind and emotions a bit, and then he told me he was back in control and would stay on top of his personal wellbeing. I was glad to hear it. It's not often I meet with people who recognize a problem, but can also see a solution."

"Right, Sammy knows what to do. He'll be fine."

"Dean, not even an hour later, I strolled past his room to find him arguing with a hallucination. He was visibly upset and from the sound of it, he wanted to 'tap out' and hand his life over to the devil."

Dean paled. He felt a chill run down his spine. He now knew exactly what Castiel had meant when he said Sam would need fixing. The wall was broken. Cas had knocked down the Great Wall of Sam, and now Sam was living in hell on earth. Why hadn't Sam said something sooner? Why hadn't he asked for help?

"It looks like, you know what I'm talking about." Doctor Cooper said. "Has Sam had these hallucinations before?"

Dean looked up at the doctor unsure of what to say. It wasn't like he could start explaining Sam's crazy past. This doctor wouldn't have any pills that would fix his brother's broken wall.

"He can take religion, and religious figures, pretty literally sometimes." Dean said.

"Right, well I just wanted to see if there was anything else you might be able to tell me, that might help in Sam's treatment."

"No." Dean said, "I think you know everything now."

Doctor Cooper nodded and led Dean to the door of the office.

"He's waiting for you in the common area." Doctor Cooper said before returning to his desk.

SPNSPNSPN

Sam sat on one of the couches staring up at the clock. 3:02. Dean had said three p.m. on the dot. Was he ok? Was he on his way? Had something happened? Had he decided he didn't want to visit his crazy brother after all? Doubts and fears swam around in Sam's brain and clouded his vision, so that he didn't even realize Dean was standing right in front of him.

"Sammy?" Dean said. He took a seat on the couch next to his brother. "How you feeling?"

"Dean?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, it's me." Dean looked Sam up and down. "Brought you some of your own clothes."

"Thanks."

"So," Dean said, "the doctor tells me you've been trippin' hells bells."

"What!" Sam said, "How? How did he—"

"Sammy!" Dean called out as he hustled over to his brother's side.

Sam jumped a little at the appearance of a second Dean.

"Thought maybe two of me would make you happier," Lucifer said from the couch next to Sam.

"Sammy, you ok?" Dean asked. He sat down on the little table in front of the couch where Sam was sitting. It was a little scary to see Sam so disoriented and wearing the hospital whites.

"Dean?" Sam asked.

"Yes, that's Dean," Lucifer said. "Just like I'm Dean. Just like EVERYONE can be Dean if you want." Lucifer snapped his fingers and suddenly the room was no longer filled with hospital patients and nurses. It was a room full of Deans.

"Yeah, it's me, Dean." Dean said. His eyes were filled with concern.

"Your eyes?" Sam asked. The Dean in front of him had different eyes from the one on the couch and all the others wandering around.

"Yeah," Dean said softly, "remember Sammy? Cas shot me up with his angel mojo. But it's me. Really me, I promise."

Sam nodded, but he looked uneasy.

"Sam, I need you to be honest with me, ok?" Dean asked.

"Ok," Sam said.

"Sam, have you been seeing things? Things from before, from… things from hell? The cage?"

Sam cringed at the mention of the cage. Even though he may still be in it, he didn't want to have to think about it.

"It's ok Sam, you can tell me." Dean said. He wanted to rest a hand on his brother's knee. Make some kind of contact, but he didn't want to upset him.

Sam didn't speak. He just nodded.

"Sam, your doctor told me he heard you talking with Lucifer." Dean said. As the fallen angel's name rolled off his tongue Dean felt his blood pressure rise. They got Sam out, they worked so hard to get him out from under the Devils grasp and it wasn't enough. "You know, he's not here anymore. We got you out. You know that, right?"

Sam looked at the Dean in front of him, and then turned to the Dean at his side. Lucifer smiled.

"You sure about that?" Lucifer asked.

"Sam," Dean asked, "Sam are you seeing him right now?"

Sam looked back to Dean and nodded.

"Sam, we got you out. I swear it. I'm going to find a way to prove it to you. Ok?" Dean said. "I'm going to find a way to fix that wall again. I'm going to make you whole again. Understand?"

As Dean spoke, his energy soared. He felt a power stirring from within.

Sam looked at the Dean in front of him and focused in on what he was saying. He wanted to believe this Dean, the one that told him everything was going to be ok. This Dean sounded like the big brother he had looked up to all his life. The Dean who could fix a bullet wound with a Band-Aid and a lame joke. The Dean who would tease Sam about liking peanut butter and banana sandwiches, and then proceed to make one for him. The Dean who would pick out a pink cast just to be a bit of a jerk. Sam knew that Dean. That was his Dean.

"You're going to fix me." Sam said.

"That's right," Dean said with a smile, "That's right, Sammy."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Hope you enjoyed that chapter. Let me know what you think. Please review!


End file.
